


Bad Neighbors

by irisbleufic



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Disturbing the Peace, Inspired by Music, Kink Meme, M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-08
Updated: 2009-10-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> <i>Aziraphale/Crowley sex to Queen, preferably in a place where Queen songs could not possibly be playing, just to make Crowley's life more miserable.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted to LJ in October of 2009.

It was perfect, really. They were drunk, in Aziraphale's bedroom (or what _passed_ for Aziraphale's bedroom), and there was a decided dearth of dust. It was all downstairs in the bookshop, locked up safe and sound. Crowley, now in the process of getting naked, had seen to that. It was all part of the perfection...plot... _thing_. His fingers were beginning to have difficulty with the buttons of his shirt, quite possibly because Aziraphale wouldn't stop kissing him. _Yesss_. Quite perfect.

"My dear, if you'd just leth—just _let_ me—"

"Nono," Crowley mumbled, batting the angel's hands away. "'M good. After all, this is a striff—um, _strip_ —um, _thing_ , look, and if you're not going to let me do it right—"

Aziraphale leaned back on his elbows and gazed up at Crowley appreciatively, if rather hazily. He shifted under Crowley so that their hips tilted closer together. _Bugger_. If the bloody buttons didn't co-operate soon—oh, sod it. Crowley tore the rest, struggled out of the garment less than gracefully, and tossed it across the room. Or at least that had been his intent. The shirt didn't make it any farther than the foot of the mattress. Crowley flushed with embarrassment, but Aziraphale's eyes went just a bit wider.

"Well, what did you _expect_? Exotic dancing? That's not really my sce— _mmmph_."

He was suddenly naked, strip-tease thwarted, and Aziraphale was naked under him and oh _God_ , since when did the sound of ripping thread turn the angel on _this much_? He'd have to remember that, maybe try it with his trousers next time for a lark—

_OOH, YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY_

Crowley very nearly recoiled from the sudden reverberation of sound, which seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall. Aziraphale jumped, more in reaction to Crowley's sudden twitch than to the music. He ran both hands soothingly down the stretch of Crowley's back, pulling him in for another kiss.

"No, wait," Crowley said. "Do you have any idea what this _is_?"

_LOOK INTO MY EYES, AND YOU'LL SEE I'M THE ONLY ONE_

"Loud music?" Aziraphale ventured, looking bewildered and a little crushed.

"It's not just _any_ loud music," Crowley muttered. "Surely you recognize—"

_YOU'VE CAPTURED MY LOVE, STOLEN MY HEART, CHANGED MY LIFE_

"Yes," Aziraphale murmured, stroking Crowley's cheek fondly.

" _No_!" Crowley shouted. He reached over Aziraphale's shoulder and hammered on the wall. "This is sick! Perverted! _Wrong_!" He punctuated each word with a fresh blow.

Aziraphale sputtered. "But—"

_EVERY TIME YOU MAKE A MOVE YOU DESTROY MY MIND_

" _You're_ destroying _my_ mind!" Crowley shrieked. "THIS IS _DRIVING MUSIC_!"

"My dear, if you'd just calm down—"

_AND THE WAY YOU TOUCH, I LOSE CONTROL AND SHIVER DEEP INSIDE_

"OhGodmakeitstop," Crowley whimpered against Aziraphale's shoulder.

_YOU TAKE MY BREATH—_

The air quivered for a moment and was still. Aziraphale sighed.

"Was it really so dreadful? The song seemed appropriate."

"Queen is _never_ appropriate at a time like this," Crowley informed him, rather annoyed to discover that he had sobered up. "How on earth did it find me, anyway?"

Aziraphale was too busy kissing Crowley's neck to respond, so he shrugged.

"I mean, we're in _your_ flat," Crowley insisted. "By all logic, it's impossible. This is a space in which Queen, let alone popular music at _all_ , does _not_ hap— _ummm_."

He'd just save the argument for another day, preferably when they had more wine.


End file.
